


You Got the Universe Reclining in Your Hair

by jennandblitz



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alcohol, Banter, Drinking, Excessively Flowery Prose, F/M, Flirting, Winter
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-31
Updated: 2020-12-31
Packaged: 2021-03-11 02:55:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,728
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28457907
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jennandblitz/pseuds/jennandblitz
Summary: to the only person I'd dream of writing Blackinnon for 🖤
Relationships: Sirius Black/Marlene McKinnon
Comments: 5
Kudos: 12
Collections: Wolfnoote





	You Got the Universe Reclining in Your Hair

**Author's Note:**

  * For [stonecoldhedwig](https://archiveofourown.org/users/stonecoldhedwig/gifts).



> to the only person I'd dream of writing Blackinnon for 🖤

“Oi, Padfoot!” James hollers, his voice echoing off the glass of the orangery that runs the length of the rear of Peverell Hall. Whilst the room itself, and the three the orangery opens onto, is bustling and full of people, Sirius suspects James doesn’t need to raise his voice so the snow dislodges from the roof.

The annual Potter Winter party is in full swing, and Sirius is as honoured as a disinherited Pureblood can be to be attending for the fourth time, second as a member of the household. This house is beginning to feel like his own now, and it’s a feeling he can’t get enough of. Before Sirius can reply or move from his admittedly elegant sprawl in the wing-backed armchair—upholstered in a hateful tweed Euphemia erroneously thinks is the height of fashion—James continues.

“I’m putting on that record you got for Christmas!” He says, already sliding the record from the sleeve with a wave of his wand. Sirius gives a little scuff of a chuckle and sips the Firewhisky Old Fashioned in his hand. He knows just why James has chosen the T. Rex live sessions Monty had unearthed for his gift. It is no secret a certain redheaded Muggleborn has a crush on Marc Bolan. When James had discovered this last year, he had pleaded with Sirius for weeks for information about the man who made the object of his affections swoon and giggle like a first year. James had taken  _ notes _ like the adorable, lovestruck idiot he was. 

“Alright,” Sirius drawls, toasting with his own whisky as his gaze flickers back out across the room. In his periphery, James puffs his chest out as he sets the vinyl on the player and looks to see if Lily has noticed his music choice. They’ve been dancing around each other for a year, had even gone on a few dates but both of them refuse to acknowledge that it’s anything more serious. 

Sirius would laugh at their sweet ignorance if he wasn’t currently embroiled in a similar situation himself. He sips his drink, watches James dance a little by himself, eyes on stalks for a redhead as he grooves away. Lily doesn’t take long, as her little shriek of happiness sounds over the din of people. She appears in a wonderfully festive green dress, with holly in her red hair like a crown, and smiles when she sees James. Sirius rolls his eyes, Godric they are playing the most intricate game of pretend.

“When are they ever gonna get together, huh?” A soft voice comes from next to Sirius, a split second before he smells that perfume: orange and geranium, something spicy beneath it. Lily’s dress is pretty of course, but it’s nothing compared to the thing of beauty that is Marlene McKinnon today. Her blonde curls are half pulled back from her face, and her deep blue dress is cut to accentuate every curl of her body that Sirius has made it his purpose in life to catalogue. She’s standing casually, as if it’s complete happenstance that she has emerged from the crowd by his chair; and yet her blue gaze keeps fluttering down to him. 

The ice cubes clink as Sirius sips his drink again, chuckling. “They’re both blind,” he says, shifting a little as Marlene perches on the arm of his chair. He shifts his glass to his other side, and sets his hand on the small of her back. It’s accidental, of course, and Marlene doesn’t react. She has a belt around her hips, pewter or silver maybe—Remus isn’t in the vicinity to see whether he’s sneezing or rubbing his eyes at the latter—but Sirius doesn’t wonder too much. The belt is made of dainty little links, tinkling with stars and sparkles. Sirius can sense the magic in it too, charmed to stay perfectly in place or just the right length, because it makes his fingers tingle.

Marlene smiles, turning a little towards him. Her gaze drifts down to him as he sips his drink once more. “What are you drinking?”

“Firewhisky Old Fashioned,” Sirius supplies, watching Lily dance her way a little closer to James. They’re adorable. Marlene’s arm is warm against his shoulder as she leans closer to him, a spiral of blonde hair swinging from its fastening. “Wanna try?”

Right on cue, as their fingers brush with a shiver of electricity Sirius would call cliche and ridiculous, the song changes.

_ You got fire – on your lips _ . 

Sirius smirks as Marlene  leaves a smudge of her rosy lipstick on the edge of the cut crystal glass  and that of all things makes his stomach clench. He wonders how early it is acceptable to slink off upstairs to taste that fire on her lips.

_ You got magic running all around your hips. _

“I like this,” Sirius says as he takes his glass back and sips it without breaking eye contact with her. “Your belt.”

Marlene smiles like she knows what she does to him, knows how his senses are utterly drawn in by her and he doesn’t even care what is happening around him. She twists a little, places her hand on her belt so his fingers brush with hers. “I thought you might,” she says, lowly, “you egotistical little thing.”

Sirius laughs, setting his glass down with a  _ clink _ . “Oh? Stars, hm?” He twirls one star charm around his finger. Marlene’s magic and her perfume are settling in some heavy, warm combination in his stomach. “I have to admit I’m a little jealous.”

“I may have even worn it to make you jealous,” Marlene adds before she leans over and plucks up his drink to drain the last of the amber liquid from the glass. It leaves a glossy smudge across her lower lip that Sirius can’t look away from. He flattens his palm on the curve of her lower back. They have been dancing around each other for longer than James and Lily, it seemed. They gravitate towards each other, pulled in by wit and shared barbs back and forth, warm smiles and lingering touches. Post-Quidditch rendezvous in the empty changing rooms, Sirius’ Beater bat tossed aside and the Snitch Marlene had caught buzzing around in the air above their heads. Sneaking into dormitories or empty classrooms to kiss and fuck and obey the marrow-deep humming in their bones to be near the other in some way neither of them understand. Sirius wants so badly to sweep her upstairs, lay her on his bed and laugh when she rolls them over and straddles his hips to take what she wants. 

“If you like,” he starts, still looking at her, drinking in her heart-shaped face, freckled skin, the blush over the bridge of her nose. Circe, Merlin and Morgana, she is so beautiful. “I can make you a drink, so you don’t steal mine.”

Marlene smiles and straightens up. “If you insist.”

She stands a moment before he does, Sirius taking the moment to drink in how beautiful she is before he sets his hand once more upon her back and lets her lead him towards the bar cart in the dining room.

_ Girl, you are the jeepster for my love _ .

Marlene wiggles her hips to the music as she weaves through the throng of people, perfectly in time, and Sirius hums along to the song as he watches. She pauses at the bar cart, then looks to Sirius expectantly, one fine eyebrow raised.

Sirius pulls his wand from his sleeve without glancing away from her, then waves his wand to summon another crystal glass from the nearby cabinet. This is the only cocktail he knows how to make, the only one he’s bothered to listen to Monty about, and that is only because he can’t particularly swig Ogden’s straight from the bottle in  _ civilised company _ . Marlene stays leaning against the cart, her gaze flickering between the drink and Sirius. 

With a flourish, Sirius taps the rim of the glass with his wand to swirl it together, and Marlene gifts him with a soft laugh. “Show off,” she tells him, with no bite at all, and Sirius shoots her a wink.

“You like me showing off,” he says, picking up his own drink and handing the other to her. 

“You know I do.” Marlene sips her own glass and leaves another pink smudge upon the rim. Sirius can so easily imagine those same smudges of lipstick hidden beneath the collar of his shirt as Marlene bites bouquets into his skin. He shifts, gaze dripping appreciatively over her again as he hums his agreement, free hand going to her waist once more.

“To another imminent year?” Marlene raises her glass in a small toast.

Sirius does not think about the imminent year, about leaving Hogwarts and what the Wizarding World may hold for him beyond that. He finds it easy to sweep aside when he looks at Marlene and raises his glass to mirror her. “To a better year,” he agrees, waiting for Marlene to toast.

Surprisingly—Merlin, he will never cease to be surprised by the endless facets of this woman—Marlene drains her glass in one then sets it back upon the mahogany bar-top. Sirius grins as he does the same, shaking his head around a smile of disbelief. 

“Come on,” Marlene says, with Firewhisky glistening on her lips and those starry charms tinkling around her hips. “Let’s sneak off upstairs before James and Lily have another argument and we have to peace-keep.” She takes his hand and pulls him towards the rear staircase of Peverell Hall, as she knows exactly where he’s been daydreaming of taking her the whole party. 

“Someone is in a hurry,” Sirius drawls, although he’s already breathless and so terribly endeared.

Marlene pauses on the first step of the staircase and loops her arms around his shoulders. Her smile is secretive and warm and Sirius can’t help but lean in to steal a kiss from her lips. She tastes like fire and satisfaction. He slides a palm around her hip to knit their bodies closer together. Marlene kisses back, nips sharply at his lower lip and leaves another rosy smudge like a flowery brand at the corner of his mouth. 

“Well, I think if you’re jealous of my belt, you’re going to be blown away by my underwear.”


End file.
